Evil Inside of Me: The 224th Annual Hunger Games
by Jac Danvers
Summary: The darkest hour is always just before dawn. Twenty-six will have the chance to realize what they're truly made of, but only one will live to see the future dawning. Submissions now closed!
1. Evil Inside of Me

**Evil Inside of Me: The 224th Annual Hunger Games**

**A SYOT Story**


	2. Our Cast of Players

You guys are absolutely amazing! Seriously! Thank you all for the amazing tributes! I added in D13 to try and fit everyone in!** Submissions are now closed!**

Thank you all again for being so fabulous and wonderful! I'll update this chapter with the last of the tributes. I'm aiming to have the first chapter out early next week, where we'll be starting the reapings.

And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!

**D1**

_**Boy: **_Jack Gilburn – 17 – This D1 career comes across as a tough guy, but don't think he's all brawn and no brains. He's got the smarts and the ability to charm that's certain to bring him success. _Submitted by Hope_

_**Girl: **_Katerina Emerald - She's trained as a career, but fighting isn't her strategy. With a bat of her eyelid, men within the district fall at her feet. And if any other girl thinks they're going to steal her strategy of seduction, they sure as hell better watch their back. _Submitted by skyblue5565_

**D2**

_**Boy:**_Teddy Chamberlin – 17 – An emotionally unstable boy, his parents have forced him to train for the games in their quest for glory. He thinks he can fight and kill, but can he deal with the reality of his actions? _Submitted by Arcticmist_

_**Girl:**_Calendula Bates* – 18 – A beautiful but scarred career who plans on using her looks and charms to seduce her way through the games. _Submitted by Jac Danvers _

**D3**

_**Boy:** _Otto Acadia - 17 - He's brilliant when it comes to technology and protective of his friends, but his antisocial behavior and germ-phobia can leave him isolated. Can Otto overcome his fears and use his brains to succeed? _Submitted by Radioactive Raven_

_**Girl: **_Skylar Bornly - 14 - Sweet and innocent? You might think so at first glance. She may have you on her side at first, but when the true Skylar comes out, you'll live to regret it. If you live, that is... _Submitted by Son of Adam _

**D4**

_**Boy: **_Luka Greenval - 16 - A career tribute, raised and trained by his victor mother, with a fatalistic outlook on life Blunt, with a protective armor around him, he has everything he needs to win, but can he overcome his suspicion of others when the time calls for it? _Submitted by Son of Adam_

_**Girl: **_Aaralyn Leapsage – 14 – Manipulative and cold at first, Ary has what it takes to deceive the others into trusting her. But could the reappearance of a long-gone friend be her ultimate downfall? _Submitted by Elyad_

**D5 **

_**Boy:**_Cai Robinbark – 14 – He may be small for his age, but this D5 kid is certainly bound to be a threat. Toughened up by years of living with his teasing older brothers, he's a loner with a penchant for playing mind games. _Submitted by Unidentified Pineapples_

_**Girl: **_Penelope Winchester- 14 - Resourceful and clever, Pen is a girl with big dreams, but a bigger heart. She's always put others before herself. But what was once her greatest and most respected trait is her greatest liability in the arena. Will she be able to put her life above the life of others? _Submitted by Radioactive Raven_

**D6**

_**Boy: **_Bruce Bogwittle* – 12 – The son of the district governor, he's the kid who loves nothing more than to rub his riches in the face of those around him. Living life sheltered and coddled, he's wholly unprepared for the arena. _Submitted by Jac Danvers_

_**Girl: **_Rina Kinsfell – 16 – An independent and practical girl, whose cynicism makes it difficult for her to trust others. What she lacks in strength, she makes up for in wits and an ability to camouflage her true intentions. _Submitted by Hope_

**D7**

_**Boy: **_Samael Telmaris - 16 - Straight forward and honest, Sam is the kind of guy who's willing to lay all his cards on the table. Will him, what you see is what you get. But with everything on the line, will he be able to keep his strategy under wraps from his enemies? _Submitted by Elyad_

_**Girl: **_Igris Dragonbeam - 14 - Stuck up and widely considered a snob, Igris hides behind the persona she's created in the district so no one knows how broken she is. Can she find the will to fight and live during the games? _Submitted by Hollow-Kuchiki_

**D8**

_**Boy: **_Kurt Hutcherson - 17 - The son of the district mayor, he has a superiority complex and a tendency to be bossy or rude. But don't think that he's lazy. When Kurt sets his mind on something, he'll do anything to see that goal through. And right now, that goal is survival. _Submitted by Zxykary_

_**Girl: **_Muse Lane- 14 – Talkative and social with an awkward streak, fighting will never come naturally to her. But her knowledge of herbs and medicines gives her an advantage when it comes to survival. _Submitted by Arcticmist_

**D9**

_**Boy:**_Castin Eggerfall*- 12- A sweet boy whose family means the world to him. He knows he doesn't stand a chance in the arena, but to him, there are things more important than his own life. _Submitted by Jac Danvers_

_**Girl: **_Avery Burns - 14 - Feisty and rebellious, Avery has overcome her injuries and disabilities to become a woman who knows what she likes and dislikes. Will her outspoken behavior be her downfall or her saving grace in the arena? _Submitted by DorkyGirl101_

**D10**

_**Boy: **_Nolan Hildebrand -17 - He's always been the life of the party and the talk of the town. Living his life dictated on his own terms- it's been Nolan's dream for years. But is it motivation enough inside the arena? _Submitted by Shkittles_

_**Girl: **_Breen Westenfall* – 16 – The beauty of D10- ever man would die for her, but it's put a wall and a deep seeded hatred between her and the other girls. Wholly unprepared to fight and defend herself, her only option is to run. _Submitted by Jac Danvers_

**D11**

_**Boy: **_Kale Richmond - 17 - A field worker with a tendency to hold grudges, once your on his bad side, you're gonna stay there. He's become greatly depressed since the death of his sister. Will he find the strength to fight for his life and in her memory? _Submitted by Nightfall12_

_**Girl: **_Sorrel Hawthorne - Sarcastic and stubborn, Sorrel's always been one of the guys. She's always been the leader, but leader's are a target. Can her survival instincts overcome her natural love of being in charge? _Submitted by Kyumori_

**D12**

_**Boy:**_ Herron Blackfeather*- 18 – Raised in the seam, from an early age his father has taught him one lesson: that peace is the only answer. He accepts his fate with his refusal to kill. There's no turning back from his silent rebellion. _Submitted by Jac Danvers_

_**Girl: **_Bianca Cavanaugh - 17 - A volatile free spirit, Bianca's earned a reputation throughout her district as the girl you don't mess with under any circumstances. Her bad temper could work to her advantage, but will her isolation be her downfall? _Submitted by Drama Provider_

**D13**

**_Boy: _**Aleksander Solli - 17 - Quiet and calculating, Alek knows not to judge his competition before he truly understands them. He's a strong competitor, but will his greatest asset also be his greatest hinderance? _Submitted by Midnightxwolfx_

**_Girl: _**Rain Beecher - 12 - Sad, tired, and broken down, Rain's lived her life hindered by her disability and discrimination. The minute she's reaped, she believes her fate is sealed. Is there anyway this little girl can survive? _Submitted by Unidentified Pineapples_


	3. One Hundred Forty Nine Years

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games do not belong to me. It's an unfortunate thing, but something I'll just have to live with. Characters belong to their respective creators. I'm just here to have fun with them.**

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><p>My parents called me Victory. But everyone calls me Vi.<p>

Our names are a point of pride among us kids in the Capitol. It's been a century and a half since the action and excitement of the Third Rebellion. It was a tumultuous time for those of us from the Capitol- reestablishing the power that was once so cruelly wrenched from us by the rebellious districts, asserting our dominance over them once again, regaining our wealth, our status, our luxurious and beautiful lifestyle.

I could listen to my great-grandmother retell the story over and over again. Honestly, she's a bit senile, and she hadn't been born when the rebellion occurred, but if there's one thing she remembers clearly in her old age it's the story of how her parents- my great-great-grandparents- helped to restore order to Panem.

But like I said, it's been a hundred and forty-nine years since Micah Hawthorne, the heroic and wayward grandson of former General Gale Hawthorne, led the Capitol rebels against the Mockingjay government and reestablished order within Panem. Despite this, his victory is still celebrated today. There's the annual anniversary celebrations on the day the final District fell, with fireworks and dances. And of course, the annual games are a perpetual favorite among all of us here in the Capitol. But the impact of his victory is so magnanimous, three generations worth of children were named in its honor.

There were three Victory's in my year at schools, five in the years below me, and eight in the years above. It makes it tough for a girl- even a beauty like me – to stand out. So I changed my name to Vi so the boys would remember whose finger they were wrapped around. And it worked.

OOO

There's an old saying that, if history is forgotten, it repeats itself. Too bad the rebel government didn't keep that in mind. The Mockingjay Rebellion, as it's called in my textbooks, was largely a success- in the short run. Sure, it's a black stain in the history of the Capitol, but one that cannot be ignored. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark became symbols of hope to the Districts, symbols of great hatred to folks like my great-grandparents. We lost our homes, our wealth, our status. The Hunger Games were abolished. The technologies that kept us beautiful and happy were taken away from us as equality prevailed.

In the first generation, it appeared that the social order had been reestablished, that the new government would reign supreme. President Paylor was a good and fair president, who treated the defeated Capitol citizens with relative respect despite our quasi-prisoner of war status. But as time passed, it became apparent that there were cracks in the system- as there are in any system- lying dormant in anticipation of the next social movement that was smart enough to make headway and lead the overthrow.

It took almost fifty years.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had long since passed. The official party line, used to keep the districts in check, was that it was a joint suicide- that their guilt over leading the rebellion and betraying the true Panem government finally caught up with them. If you read the black market books though- those that are banned by our government, but somehow manage to get passed around school anyway- it was anything but. It was a cold blooded double murder, the first step in the Third Rebellion, and another point of pride among us kids. Our ancestors took out the leaders of the Mockingjay Rebellion. The symbol of hope amongst the rebels.

What poor District kid could brag about that?

Gale Hawthorne was still alive, but a shadow of his old self. He'd been a hard, cold man most of his life, harboring a secret love for Everdeen, who couldn't bear to look at him after her sister's death. It was his son and grandson that would become the principal players in the drama that unfolded.

Hawthorne's son, Emerich, became the President of Panem. His policies were a departure from those who came before him, clearly favoring the Districts over the Capitol. Were you descended from Capitol supporters? Best to keep it a secret- admitting any connection to the former government was punishable by twenty years imprisonment, and dissonant voices were silenced in secret executions. He would have left the descendants of the Capitol to die if he could. And Emerich Hawthorne was very clear that he believed we deserved it. But what he didn't realize was that his unique brand of cruelty incited the very rebellion that would take his life.

You see, Micah Hawthrone, the president's son, did not agree with his father's policies. It began as a minor familial disagreement, which might have passed with minimal fallout. But Micah fell in love with Ceres Snow. Yes. _That_ Snow.

Great-granddaughter of the former president and greatest martyr of the Mockingjay Rebellion, she was widely considered one of the greatest enemies of the state. Not because she herself was a threat, obviously. But because she was a Snow. Despite the fact that she spent her entire life in prison, she was known for her kind spirit and her down-to-earth beauty. Micah, a member of the army assigned to guarding the prion, had brought her a meager dinner of bread, fish, and water to her one night, and their illicit romance began. Sneaking away from his battalion at nights, they spent hours talking, holding hands and kissing through the bars that kept them apart. It was your typical boy meets girl, what every girl dreams of, minus the fact that she was imprisoned.

He tried to obtain her release from prison, tried to reason with his father. But Emerich, that bastard who despised the people of the Capitol, who refused to listen to the voice of reason, who lacked the simple compassion for the lives of his former enemies, ignored his son.

Ceres Snow was executed within the week. And Emerich sealed his fate and the fate of the Mockingjay Rebellion. In his desolation, Micah was swayed to the side of the Capitol Rebellion. Within a year, Emerich was dead, Micah was president, and my people reigned supreme again.

OOO

One hundred and forty-nine years have passed. One hundred and forty-nine years of order, peace, and domineering control of the Districts. They remember their place now. Remember to whom they owe their pathetic existence, and to be thankful we allowed them to live at all. Those who remember the olden days, the days of the Mockingjay Rebellion are long gone, and the Peacekeepers ensure that any rabble-rousers are swiftly taken care of.

I live in the lap of luxury, as it should be. I'm so grateful I never had to suffer the way my ancestors did, fighting for survival, for a meager scrap of bread while the life sustaining food was sent to the districts. My life is bliss, surrounded by friends, with men falling at my feat for the honor of taking me on a date. We laugh, we go out, we follow the latest fashion trends. And once a year we gather around the television to view the Hunger Games.

"Vi… Vi!" my best friend Adam's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "We're out of wine."

I call to the Avox girl at the doorway, but she ignores me. Losing my patience, I resort to snapping at her brusquely, but she doesn't move. Emitting a sigh of annoyance, I stand and approach her. This girl is absolutely useless, I have no idea why my father keeps us around. Slapping her across the face, she finally stands at attention.

"We require more wine. I expect it to arrive before the District One reapings begin."

I see pure hatred in the brunette girl's eyes. I could have her punished for that, but I'm feeling particularly nice today. Besides, Rocco, my current boyfriend (though not for long) is waiting for me to rejoin him on the couch. Adam, and his girlfriend Rina are on the loveseat making out, empty wine glasses on the coffee table in front of them. My parents are playing a game of chess nearby, far enough to give the four of us privacy, but close enough to get a view of the exciting events about to unfold.

It's only a matter of minutes now.

"Vi! You coming? It's about to start!" I hear Rocco shout. As I reenter the living room, I hear the anthem play and the thrill of the upcoming events surges inside of me.

OOO

My parents named me Victory, and though everyone calls me Vi, it's a name I'm proud to have. We have so much to celebrate here in the Capitol, and my name represents that. Victory: in honor of the Capitol's resurgence. Victory: in honor of my ancestor's struggle to regain our way of life. Bittersweet victory that will be tasted by only one of the twenty-six that enter the arena.

Taking my seat on the couch, I fall into Rocco's embrace and grin as I see the flag of our nation fly on the screen.

The two hundred and twenty-fourth Hunger Games are about to begin.

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><p><strong>Hey all! So I wanted to give you all a bit of a background before the story started- namely, why the Hunger Games were reinstated. I hope you all liked Victory- she was a submitted tribute I wasn't able to add to a district, but I wanted to include her somehow. She'll be back at the end of the story to narrate the ending. I'm hoping to have the D1 reapings up early next week! Comments, and especially constructive criticism are always greatly appreciated! -Jac<strong>


	4. We Won't Break, We Won't Die: District 1

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games are not mine! I wish I was smart enough to think them up! Chapter title from the song "All We Are" by One Republic**

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><p><strong>Jack Gilburn<strong>

"That all you got for me, big brother?" Willow scoffed, her smirk teasing. Twirling her sword between her fingers, she waited for me to pick up my spear. Was I concerned that this morning, the day I was volunteering for the Games, my baby sister disarmed me? I probably should have been. But I _was _the one who taught her how to fight, and a feeling of pride surged through me.

Willow was gonna be a victor. Just like I would be in a few short weeks.

On the sidelines of the training arena, I heard high pitched cheers. Clover and Pearl, the younger two of my trio of sisters, were cheering for Willow, of course. They liked to form an alliance against me. I always had to be on my guard for sneak attacks at home. My sisters were still little, able to hide behind couches and in closets, and sneak tickle attacks were a danger that even the toughest guy found hard to withstand.

"What do you think Dad?" I called. As much as I love training with Willow, I didn't want to devote too much time to any one apparatus. Dad had reserved the whole arena for a full hour this morning. He isn't the type of guy to get emotional, so I knew this was his way of wishing me "Good luck" in the Games.

"How 'bout I program one of dummies for you? We've got ten minutes left, you can practice going in for the kill." I nodded in agreement, running my hand through my sweat soaked blonde hair.

The dummies were state of the art, the newest technology to hit the training arenas. Twelve different programs, each fighting with a different weapon, allowing you to learn what blows would maim and what blows would kill. Since the games were reinstated, almost every district now had a training hall where children could learn to fight. Still, it was only kids in the wealthier districts, like us here in one, who could afford to train full time and had access to the best technology. The gap in training had closed ever so slightly, but we Careers still held the advantage. And that was all right with me.

Picking up my spear, I saw my father had chosen a bow and arrow for the dummy. This could be a tricky one- hard to get up close, easy to be hit before I got within range that I could throw my spear. With a precision that belied its robotic existence, the machine drew the bow and aimed at me. As the arrow sailed by my ear I dodged, threw myself to the ground, and rolled toward it. Checking out the corner of my eye, I saw the dummy was still reloading. Pushing myself up, I sliced through the arm.

_ Not a kill, _I thought. _Not good enough. _Injury to the arm of an archer was certainly limiting, but a clever kid could think of any number of ways to inflict damage with just the arrows. That's just what the machine did, holding an arrow high as it stalked toward me. It lunged, but stopped short. A foot swung around, knocking my feet out from under me and the wind out of my chest. _Shit…_

Standing above me, the machine came in for the kill… before promptly falling back, "dead." I pulled myself up and saw a tiny silver dagger sticking out of the machine's heart.

A hand stuck out above me, smooth and tiny, but backed by a strong arm that easily lifted me up. Bright red lips and heavy lidded brown eyes met me as I stood. She smirked at me seductively, drawing me in.

"I suppose this seals my spot in the career alliance?"

OOO

**Katerina Emerald**

I retrieved my dagger from the machine lying prone on the ground, watching out of the corner of my eye as Jack dusted himself off. Behind me, I could hear my friends Bluebell and Rosalie giggling flirtatiously. There was no denying that Jack was cute, but my preference was for men, not boys. Men like Aspen and Chrome, my boyfriend and his best friend (also known as my man on the side).

"Didn't realize you were volunteering this year, Kat. Don't you have two years left before your ineligible? I'd hate to see you get taken out when you had a chance for more practice" I could hear the challenge in his voice.

I stuck my tongue out at him with a smirk, making sure neither Aspen nor Chrome could see me. "Don't you have a year before you're out, Jack?"

"Touché. You need a sparring partner?"

I shook my head. "And ruin your pretty face before it even hits the arena? Let's save it for the grand finale… if you even make it that long."

His eyes lit up as if my retort had been unexpected, and I knew I'd hit a nerve. Jack wasn't the terror the district made him out to be, but when it came to the games, he was a serious contender whose cockiness was backed up by true ability. But it didn't hurt to cut him down a few notches, just in case. "I'll see you at the reaping, Katerina," he muttered, clearly annoyed.

As he cleared the arena, I turned to Aspen. "Set up a target for me baby?" I pouted, pushing my lower lip out as far as it could go. He nodded with a stupid-looking grin on his face. Lucky for him, he was gorgeous, because he was absolutely no good for stimulating conversation. As he ran off to comply with my request, I winked at Chrome.

It was a shame neither of them realized they were on their way out as soon as I hit the arena.

The targets set up, I took half an hour to practice my knife throwing. Of all the skills my mother- a former victor- had taught me, the knives were my favorite. Good up close and from a distance, they easily were better than the clunky spears, maces, and axes preferred by many other Careers. Rolling my shoulder to ease some of the tension, I threw the knives—one, two, three, four, five, all in the bull's-eye. Bluebell and Rosalie broke into polite, admiring applause.

Checking the time over my shoulder, I saw I still had an hour to get ready for the Reapings. "You want another target set up?" Chrome asked.

"Nah. Time to get ready. The big screen is calling me! Will one of you boys take the target down for me?"

"I will!" Both boys volunteered simultaneously. They glared at each other. Seeing the tension mounting, I moved to kiss them both on the cheek.

"Play nice, boys. Don't ruin my last day here. Next time you see me I'll be moving to my own place in the Victor's Village!"

I embraced my two friends, and left the arena, enjoying the cool afternoon weather. I stuck to the sidewalks, the streets busy with trucks making last minute diamond and ruby deliveries before the Reapings began. As I passed, men smiled at me, almost leering, and I ate it all in. I would have them all at my feet when I came home from the Hunger Games victorious.

"Home mom!" I shouted walking into my house. My mother emerged from the top of the stairs. I'd never known my dad- it was just the two of us- and the wealth from her victory had treated us kindly. With the great technologies available from the Capitol, she could pass as my twin- long, wavy brown hair, green eyes, on the shorter side, but muscular and strong. She didn't look a day over twenty.

"Good training session?" she asked, giving me a kiss on the forehead. I nodded, and she looked a little misty-eyed. "I'm so proud of you, Kat. So proud. Now let's get you ready for your moment in the spotlight."

I was ready.

OOO

**Jack **

As I pulled my shirt over my head, I glanced out my window toward the square where the Reapings would be held. The square was teaming, filled with government officials responsible for making District 1 television ready. Not that it took much work for us- it was the poorer districts that had to worry. Glancing in the mirror, I smoothed down my still damp hair. It fell ever so slightly in my eyes, giving me a look that, depending on my facial expressions, could be menacing or charming. Exactly what I was going for.

"You all ready to go?" I called, walking out of my room.

"I DON'T LOOK GOOD ENOUGH!" Willow screeched from her room, ever the petulant teenage girl. "HOW CAN YOU EPECT ME TO LOOK GOOD FOR THE CAMERAS IF YOU ONLY GIVE ME AN HOUR! GOD!" Somewhere on the other side of the house, Pearl started wailing, and I could hear Clover comforting her.

I was going to miss this- my little sisters, the girls I helped my dad raise after mom passed. But the Hunger Games were my destiny, and if anything, my sisters gave me something extra to fight for.

"Willow, hunny, you look gorgeous," I heard my dad say, passing by her room. "I want you in the car in five minutes young lady. Jack, c'mere." I followed him back into my bedroom.

"Now don't take this as me getting sentimental," he started, causing me to roll my eyes. He snorted, ruffling my hair affectionately. "Listen twerp. I know you don't have a token yet, so I wanted you to have this. It was your grandfather's. He brought it into the games when he won sixty years ago. He'd be proud to see you wearing it today."

He handed me a velveteen bag, and I poured out the content into my hands. A war medal, dated just shortly after the end of the Third Rebellion. I knew one of my ancestors had contributed to the Capitol's cause, and had been handsomely rewarded for it. For a time we'd been pariahs around District 1, but it had long since forgotten, and my family was lucky enough to live in relative wealth because of it. I grinned at my father, and pinned the medal to my jacket. This was certain to earn me sponsors.

My dad walked away, brushing his eyes, and gathered the girls into the car. I used my shirt to polish the medal, and followed them outside.

OOO

**Katerina**

"I'll see you at the goodbyes, okay mom?" I said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Go get 'em, babygirl!" she encouraged, straightening my black locket on my neck. She took her place amidst the parents and other community members, close to where Aspen and Chrome stood. Both had been ineligible for the games for several years now.

The square was packed with kids, every one of them eager to get their hands on a spot in the games. Career district- it meant I would have to fight to get my rightful spot, especially when it came to the eighteen year olds. It was their last chance for victory.

Too bad today wasn't their day.

Taking my spot next to Bluebell, I waved to Rosalie over with the fifteen year olds. She stood with Jack Gilburn's sister Willow giggling. _She'll make a good addition to the posse, _I found myself thinking. _Especially when Jack is dead. She'll need some friends to help get through it. _

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jack in the crowd, shooting warning glances at the other seventeen year olds. He was a formidable opponent, but I had a strategy that ensured I would end up on top—without getting my hands dirty.

I was tempted to wave, but the mayor stepped up to the podium before I had a chance. His speech was long, rambling, and boring- as it was every year- so I took the opportunity to practice my poses for onstage, with Bluebell as my judge. By the time the escort hit the mic, I was ready for action.

"GOOD MORNING DISTRICT ONE!" Weiss Shastenborough shouted from stage. He never aged a day, despite having been escort as long as I could remember. He was still just as handsome too- chiseled jaw, well muscled arms, and perfectly styled hair, if you could ignore the heinous puce color it was dyed. He was covered in tattoos, each one commemorating a victorious tribute that he had escorted to the Hunger Games. There was a reason, after all, he was the escort for District One.

The crowds applauded him wildly. "Let's not waste time here today." Say what you will about other escorts, Weiss kept the ceremonies moving at a brisk pace. He was a no-nonsense type of man, dedicated to his job and to helping his tributes win. "It's time to choose the next victor of the HUNGER GAMES!"

Wild applause erupted again. He allowed the claps to fade, before holding up his hands. "Alright, alright! I know you're all as excited as I am! We'll start with the gentlemen!"

Across from the girls, the fighting had already broken out. I saw Jack sneaking out of his section, edging up past the fourteen year olds. Smart thinking. He'd found a route outside the fighting. His shoulder was grabbed by a peacekeeper ready to send him back to his section, and I watched as he slipped a bill into the man's hand and continued on his path.

"Your tribute this year is Estin—"

"I VOLUNTEER!" Jack shouted, bursting through the twelve year olds and storming the stage. His blue eyes glared across the crowd, just daring anyone to try and usurp him from his position.

"What's your name, young man?"

"Jack Gilburn." In front of me, I saw Willow jumping up and down cheering for her brother. On stage, Jack pumped his fist in the air as the crowd honored him.

OOO

**Jack **

I didn't think it would feel this good. I love the games, love the idea of fighting and being victor, but I didn't realize how amazing it would feel to have the entire district screaming my name. The crowd was absolutely wild, and near the back, I could see my father beaming with pride.

I shook Weiss's hand, his grip as strong as mine, and he patted me on the back. "Jack Gilburn everybody! Now, for the ladies!"

Weiss reached into the spinning bowl. I saw Katerina leering across the crowds, eyeing a possible path to the stage. Good. I wanted her in. She was tough, but she'd be easy to take. Despite her skills with a knife, she didn't have much else going for her. I'd observed her enough in training to know that. She'd be useful among the careers for a while, and easy to dispose of after.

"This year, the lovely lady entering the arena is Katerina Emerald!"

Luck on her side. She didn't even have to volunteer. I saw her green eyes light up, as she fought her way through the crowd. She didn't have as far to go as I had, but there were a lot of desperate older girls, ready and willing to take her place. One grabbed her arm, and I watched as Katerina spun around, punching the girl hard in the nose. The girl doubled over, crimson blood spilling over her white dress.

Shoving the youngest girls aside, Katerina climbed onto the stage and grabbed the mic. She smiled vibrantly, seemingly making eye contact with everyone in the crowd with one glance. "Don't even bother girls. _I _am the tribute this year, and I'll be bringing glory back to District One."

I could see her glance at me out of the corner her eye, raising an eyebrow in challenge. _Challenge accepted,_ I thought, pulling the mic from her hands. "Sorry Kat, it'll be me bringing the championship back. But I'll make sure to remember you in my victory speech."

"Okay! Okay! We've got a rambunctious pair this year! Katerina Emerald and Jack Gilburn everbody! Let's shake hands you two! Shake hands for everyone to see!" Weiss encouraged. He looked satisfied with the pair he'd been given. With our enthusiasm, we were sure to be a draw for the sponsors.

I held out my hand for Katerina to shake. She took it, shook twice firmly. And then she did the unexpected.

With a strong tug on my arm, she pulled me into a long, searing kiss that sent the entire district into whoops and hollers.

OOO

**Katerina **

I pulled away as the crowds died down and the mayor restored order. Behind us, the peacekeepers were ushering people out of the square and the crews were disassembling the cameras. The Reaping was now over. Looking back at Jack, his face was red- either blushing or furious, I had no idea.

"Come on you two. Time for your goodbyes," Weiss said, guiding us off the stage opposite the crowds.

Jack tugged on my arm. "What the hell was that?" he hissed.

"That, my dear, was money in our pockets." He looked at me stupidly, and I wanted to slap him upside the head. For a guy as smart as he is, he certainly wasn't catching on to my plan. "They want a show. We gave them a show. Look at us. We've got strength, we've got an obvious competition between us, not to mention with the other tributes. Add in a punch of romance and boom, we _are _the story to follow in the arena. No other district can compete with us. We're unstoppable."

I watched as the realization crossed over his face. "You're smarter than I gave you credit for. That's a good idea." I knew what he left unspoken. Jack now knew not to underestimate me.

And that was a good thing, for him at least. Because romantic entanglements were good for getting sponsors. But with eleven other boys in the arena, romantic interests were easy to replace. And jealousy could lead a boy from the weakest district to kill the mightiest of Careers.

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><p><strong>Hey everybody! I hope you enjoyed the D1 reapings! Thank you to Hope and skyblue5565 for the tributes. These two just clicked perfectly together when I was writing, and writing their flirtatious competition just worked so well! It was great!<strong>

**Interested in seeing what the tributes look like? I'm creating banners for each district as I go along. If you'd like to see them, they're on my blog. The link can be found through my author's page!**

**Also, thank you to everyone who read and especially those who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate hearing your thoughts. I was so happy you enjoyed the introductory chapter. I wasn't sure how that would go over, seeing as I've never seen one really done before. So thank you for the positive feedback!**

**As always, reviews, especially constructive criticism, are greatly appreciated! **


	5. There'll Be No More Wishing: District 2

**Disclaimer: Nope... still ain't mine! Title from the song "No More Wishing" by Hayley Taylor.**

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><p><strong>Teddy Chamberlin <strong>

I sat back on the bench, my long legs stretched out awkwardly over the row of bleachers below us, a plate of roasted barbecue ribs and zucchini resting in my lap. Absentmindedly, I picked at my teeth with one of the bones, glancing sidways at my father and mother. They were frowning. What else was new?

Two rows in front of me I could see my best friend Westley Beat and a few of the other guys from the training arena laughing and joking, stealing glances at the gaggle of girls we normally trained with. I would have done anything to be with them right now. To spend my few hours of freedom in the company of my best friends. But my parents would not allow it.

"Are you paying attention, Theodore?" my father's stern voice boomed close to my ear.

"It's Teddy," I muttered, settling back in my seat, watching the District One reaping for the second time in twenty-four hours.

"Teddy is not the name of a victor," my mother replied sharply, tying her hair back tightly into a bun. "Don't you _want _to be a victor?" I could hear the accusation in her voice.

"Yeah, I do," I mumbled. And it was true- at least I thought so. My parents had pushed me hard my entire life, spending excessive amounts of money for training. I was unbeatable. I may not have looked like the typical tribute- I was far from the hulking, bulky, meatheads who normally represented one, two, and four. But what I lacked in bulk, I made up for in skill. My life was spent training for this.

So why was I so uncertain when it came to volunteering myself for the arena?

"Pay attention- here's where the vid got cut yesterday," my father said.

That's why we were gathered in the arena just a few short hours before the reapings began. A transistor explosion at the power plant had caused the television service to cut in the middle of the District One reapings. It was fixed now, although rumor had it that several heads had literally rolled, by decree of the capitol. Watching the rest of the reaping had not been mandatory, but the regular trainees and their families had gathered at the arena to study the best that District One had to offer. After all, they _were _our greatest competition.

Not that any of the other guys really had to be concerned. Since my parents decided I was "sufficiently skilled" to take on the arena, it was no secret that I would be the male tribute this year. My parents held enough clout and wealth that whatever they wanted, they got. And what they wanted was the one thing missing from our family tree- a Hunger Games victor.

All I had to do was volunteer and win. Then I'd be the perfect son. My parents could live in glee in the Victor's Village, and I'd be free to live my own life. The first time in all my seventeen years.

On the screen in front of me, a blonde haired guy pumped his fist. He looked like a typical career, all brawn, no brain. His name flashed under him on the screen. Jack , his family flashed on the screen- a father, three little sisters. I felt my stomach churn. Jack with three sisters and a winning smile would be my ally. And my victim. Could I live with killing a guy with three little sisters depending on him?

Next, the girl. The name was called- Katerina Emerald- and a shout of glee was heard. I watched as she literally fought her way to the front of the crowd, grin on her face. She strutted onto the stage, striking pose after pose for the camera like a Capitol model. There was no denying, she was hot. But I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. This was the type of girl who could play your emotions with the same skill as she could slice you up.

I watched as she shook hands with Jack. With an unexpected yank, she kissed him hard on the lips. I was mesmerized by how bizarre it was, but my gaze was pulled away by a ruckus in the first row.

"THAT BITCH!"

OOO

**Calendula Bates**

Oh she was going to pay. That bitch from District One was dead.

"Lenny, calm down," I heard my mother say, but I ignored her, standing up abruptly and clambering down the bleachers. My mother had always been a source of strength and level-headedness for me, but I was irate.

Storming out of the gym, I was fuming. This was supposed to be my year. My last chance. At eighteen I would be ineligible after this year for the Hunger Games, and I had not trained my entire life to be pushed out, to be just another girl who had potential and now whiles away her days training the next round of recruits. That was not me.

Since last year I'd spent my days plotting the best course of action. Everything kept in a little notebook- the best strategy, how to best deal with each career and non-career district. The advantages of the weaker districts, the disadvantages of the career alliance. No detail was too small. I spent my days training, my nights rewatching old games and designing strategy. And I had found the perfect one: seduction.

Call me vain, call me a snob, I know I'm gorgeous. I don't spend my time with dozens of boyfriends, but I could have them if I wanted them. And that was my plan in the arena. Make them fall in love with me, turn them against each other, and have the boys fight it out. Fights to the death in my name, and I wouldn't have to lift a finger.

I'd take the girls out myself, of course. No one wants to watch a damsel in distress sneak her way to victory. A bit like a black widow, stalking her prey, I would lure the other girls in and dispatch them one by one. It was the perfect plan, and at the end, I would still be standing.

I had just never counted on the girl from District One stealing it from me.

Entering the quiet, abandoned gymnasium, I took one of the battle axes in my hand and attacked the wooden dummy with fury. Slam, slam, every hit reverberated through my body. How the hell was I going to grab the attention of the sponsors when Katarina Emerald (God, just saying her name made me want to take somebody out) stole my strategy?

"Hunny? You in here?"

I dropped the axe, the sound echoing off the walls of the gym. "Yeah I'm here."

My mother shuffled slowly into the gym, her back hunched over. She'd once been a formidable woman. Like me, she'd trained for the games all her life, but she was never chosen. Never had the chance to volunteer. For years, she worked in the training center out of pure love of the game. She didn't have to- my father, before his death, was an affluent merchant- but love of the fights, the power, kept her working until arthritis made the pain too great.

"Now is not the time to let that girl get to you, Calendula Bates," she said sternly, pushing a strand of my sweaty black hair behind my ear.

"I know. But mom… what am I going to do? I can fight, the whole friggen District knows I can fight. But it's nothing without sponsors. And I if do what we planned now, they'll think I'm just copying her..."

She silenced me with a raise of her hand. Mom was far from the intense, driven warrior of her youth, but she commandeered respect from those around her. Including myself, even in my worst moods. "Yes, she has the same strategy as you. So you change tactics. You can fight. So can she. But she postures. She's prideful. Did you see her throwing poses on that stage? That will be her downfall. That is how we sway the sponsor's in your direction."

Her words turned over in my mind, and I caught on. "Let's go home," I said with a smile. There was still another hour or so before the reapings. We had time to make a new plan.

"You sure you don't want to stay and see who else might be volunteering?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Hell no. It's back to the drawing board."

OOO

**Teddy**

"Now did you see how Gilburn pumped his fist? He favors his right hand. That's what you'll want to disable first, keep him from using a weapon against you should he escape. When it comes time for the careers to break up, that is. You'll stick together as long as possible. I shouldn't have to tell you that," my father lectured.

I nodded, not even bothering to talk. My mother flitted around me, making last minute adjustments to the khaki pants, crisp white button down shirt, and brown corduroy jacket she'd chosen for me to wear. "Earth tones!" she said, as if she were one of the game stylists. "They make you look more powerful! Make you look like you have a little more muscle on you."

There was a small place in my heart that told me I should hold these last moments at home close to me. Cherish possibly the last few moments I ever spent with my parents. But they had deprived me of my childhood to train for these games, and my only thoughts were to get as far from them as I could. They could control my life, but they would not control the last memories I had of home.

"When you volunteer, take your jacket off," my father continued. "Fight your way forward. I want you to draw blood. Make sure it gets on your shirt. You may not be as big as the guy from One, but you can sure as hell look more threatening. Understand?"

"Yes sir," I muttered.

They stood back together, looking me over as if I was a prized show dog. Which, in all effect, I was. Their toy to send away and kill and possibly die to advance their position in the district. "You look good, Theodore," my mother said, dabbing her eyes.

"I'll see you at the reaping," I replied. No hug. No kiss. I was done with them. Maybe if I was lucky, they wouldn't even bother with goodbyes. Use it as a lesson to toughen me up.

Finally free, I felt a little bit of energy surge through me. Everyone thought of the reaping as a death sentence. Stepping outside onto our porch, I smiled for what seemed like the first time in years. It was my ticket to freedom- a life of my own for the first time ever.

"Did mummy and daddy wash behind your ears too?" I heard a snarky voice call from my porch.

"Can it, Westley!" I replied, giving my friend a playful shove.

"Awww little Teddy-kins is all ready for the arena!"

I laughed now, enjoying the ribbing. "You know I am."

Westley threw an arm around me. "You're leaving Theodore Chamberlin, Career tribute, sad sack, and personal carpet for his parents to walk upon. And you'll return to us Teddy Chamberlin, Hunger games victor and free man. I can't wait. Think of the _girls_, man. They will be swarming us."

_In a perfect world, _I thought to myself. _In a perfect world…_

As we walked away, I didn't look back.

OOO

**Calendula **

As I walked into the square, I could hear the murmurs of excitement throughout the crowd. Breathless anticipation, as usual. That was the advantage of living in District Two. Every year, we could see the show that District One had put on, and we had time to one-up it. Not that there was much to worry about this year. Half of District Two hadn't even seen the full first reaping thanks to the power outage. Who knows if similar events had happened in the other districts?

Still, I dressed for the occasion- after all, how often does a girl land herself on television? My mother and I had canned my original outfit. To play up the seductress, it had been a silver metallic minidress, with a low cut neckline lined with quartz mined from our hometown. I was so proud of that dress, had sewed the quartz on myself when I couldn't find what I liked in the stores.

What I was wearing was a complete one-eighty from my plans. But, as my mother had so gently reminded me, the ability to adapt and adjust to whatever was thrown at us was the difference between a dead Career and a victorious Career. Thus, as the district dignitaries took their rightful positions on the stage, I sashayed to my spot among the eighteen year old girls wearing a long, regal gown of deep purple, my hair tied up in an elaborate knot.

I portrayed strength. Intelligence. Dignity. And Katerina Emerald could suck it. Her reign as the female front runner was about to end.

"And… action!" I heard someone shout high above the crowds. As the last families of District Two rushed to take their seats in the stands or among the reaping candidates, our new governor took the forefront on the stage. Shortly after last years reapings, old Governor Pailey had succumbed to pneumonia, leaving a spot to be filled. And fill it the Capitol had. I would have listened to the governor's history with interest, just to see if the new guy told the story any differently. But Governor Callenby Norsten was young, handsome, and absolutely irresistible. Instead of plotting my way through the crowds to volunteer, I was mesmerized listening to him speak, pulled from my reverie only by the applause at his grand finish.

Looking around me, I saw the other girls had been similarly distracted. Good. I hadn't ruined my chances.

From somewhere in the distance, loud, upbeat music began to play. _This is new, _I thought. A woman with bright blue hair, pale skin, and dark brown painted freckles took to the stage. Her hair was curled and braided intricately, cascading down around her tight yellow dress that clashed horribly with her skin tone. That wasn't going to play well on TV.

This woman was new, and no wonder. It had been several years since a tribute from District Two had won. Last year it had been some girl from District Eight, though that was clearly a fluke. So Edga Penrose, our former mentor, had gotten the boot, sent down to one of the lower number districts, and this new woman had come onto the scene.

"How're ya'll doin' today? I'm Xenia Farsten, your new escort!" she drawled, upbeat and perky. She did a little dance as the music faded into the background.

_Attention whore, _I thought. This one wasn't going to last a year. How had she gotten a prized spot in District Two was beyond me. "Let's get this party started!

And despite my disdain for the woman, I cheered along with the rest

OOO

**Teddy**

_What is this woman on? _was the only thought that passed through my head as the blue haired… whatever she was… pranced across the stage.

"Now, I think it goes without saying, ladies first! Right boys?" Xenia screamed into her microphone, sending a wink in our direction.

I sighed, feeling my palms beginning to sweat. I was ready for this. I trained for this. Yet my stomach still churned at the thought of volunteering. There was no reason to be nervous. I had never been defeated or disarmed by my peers during our mock battles. I was quick on my feet, could strategize. Why couldn't I just overcome these nerves? The other Careers around me didn't have the same problem.

"You ready man?" Westley whispered on my right.

I nodded, gritting my teeth and setting my face to a grimace. _This is your destiny, Teddy Chamberlin. This is what you were born to do._

I hoped.

Reaching into the first globe, Xenia waved a piece of paper around in her hand. "You ladies ready?" The crowd cheered.

"The lovely young lady representing District Two this year is—"

"I VOLUNTEER!" a voice shouted from the eighteen year olds. Xenia's face dropped in annoyance, the smile disappearing. It was obvious she had wanted to read the name, scare some poor child before someone had the chance to volunteer.

She was sadistic. So _that's _how little miss fluff and bubbles became our escort.

The volunteer climbed onto the stage slowly, draping the long train of a purple dress over her arm. I recognized Lenny, one of the fiercest trainees among the girls. Her mother had long been an advisor to tributes-in-training. Graciously, she waved at the crowd before shaking both the governor's and the escort's hands. "What's your name, sweetie?" Xenia asked.

"Calendula Bates, ma'am. And I am here to represent the best of District Two. This year, we regain our rightful spot among the victors."

The crowd roared, absolutely went into a frenzy over her. And why wouldn't they? Standing before us all, she'd transformed from Lenny, the pretty girl who trained persistently, to Calendula, the determined, gracious, and elegant tribute. The girl from One had nothing on our Lenny.

"Another round of applause for Calendula!" Xenia shouted, a request the crowd was happy to comply with. "And now for our boy!"

"You ready?" Westley asked.

"Can I ask you a favor?" I whispered quickly as the globe filled with names was mixed.

Westley looked confused. "Anything, man."

"I need to break your nose. On my way up to the stage."

"The parents?" he asked. I nodded. He sighed, understanding. West was my best friend, he always understood. "No problem man."

Xenia's hand was in the globe, pulling the slip of paper out. I felt Westley grab my shoulder. "Come back to us, Ted. It'll be you and me, partners-in-crime when you get back. Don't think of your parents in there. Think of the rest of us." I felt emotion wash over me, hearing my best friend talking this way. "Good luck in there."

We shook hands as Xenia unfolded the paper. "Our boy this year is—"

"I volunteer!" I shouted.

"Damnit!" I heard Xenia whisper sharply into her microphone. Yeah she definitely wouldn't be here next year.

Within my section, fighting began. No one wanted to be left behind. Hell, if they wanted, the Capitol could just send twenty-four guys from District Two into the arena, and they'd _still _ have excess volunteers. I grabbed Westley by the shoulder. "Ready?" He nodded, face contorted in preparation for the hit. I socked him hard in the face, allowing the blood to spurt across my shirt.

As the fighting continued, Westley ignored his pain and helped me open a path up to the stage. I ditched my jacket, as per my parents' instructions, allowing the bright crimson of Westley's blood to be seen against the white of my shirt. Running alongside the crowds, I leapt onto the stage, ignoring the stairs. The crowd gasped in awe.

"And your name?" Xenia asked, the frustration at the reaping not going her way clear on her face.

I found my parents in the crowd, beaming in pride, and made eye contact with them. "I'm Teddy Chamberlin," I began. I saw my father cringed, and it gave me the courage to continue. One parting shot at the bastards who raised me. "And I'm going to be this year's Hunger Game victor."

"Well then, you two- let's shake hands! Give it up for the District Two tributes!"

I was free.

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><p><strong>First off, thank you all so much for such a positive response to the first chapter! Work has been busy this past week, so I'm a little bit behind on getting back to you personally, but I will be shortly! I'm so glad you enjoyed the first chapter!<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed this one as well! As I mentioned, I did reserve a number of defined "bloodbath" spots, but to give you a gist of the character (and the reasoning as to why they die early on!) I wanted to introduce them. So each of them will be featured in a reaping chapter, but the rest of the story they will not have their own perspective. **

**Please read and review! I always love hearing your feedback. And banners are up on my blog (if you go to "my websites" you can find it there!). Much love -Jac**


	6. Boldness Stands Alone: District 3

**Disclaimer: Hunger Games still ain't mine! Chapter title from "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Son**

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><p><strong>Skylar Bornly<strong>

"Are you sure I won't get in trouble for this?" the boy asked me as we stared at the metal cart of the apple vendor. The ripe red and yellow fruits were stacked neatly in pyramids, just calling my name. My stomach rumbled in anticipation, even though I could have eaten breakfast at home. Dad had made porridge before he left for work down at the plant. It was cold and nasty by the time I woke, so I took to the streets, stumbled across the farmer's market, and picked an unwitting victim.

"I do it all the time! I promise, nothing will go wrong," I reassured him, pushing my limp brown hair behind my ears. I didn't even know this boy's name. It didn't really matter, now, did it? He served a purpose, like all those I had brief associations with. "All you have to do is grab the apples from the top of the pile. One for me, one for you. And make sure he doesn't see you!"

He looked at me with uncertainty. Behind his pale grey eyes, I could see his desperation for the food. That's why I'd chosen him. This was a street kid, probably one that ran from the home for orphans, who hadn't eaten a decent meal in weeks.

Take advantage of weakness. Life lesson number one.

"Why don't you go then?" he asked suspiciously.

I sighed dramatically. "_Obviously _I would if I could. But I was here earlier this week, and I think the cart owner saw me. So I'm sharing my secret to stealing with you, and you can use it in the future.

Build a basis for trust- at least on their side. Life lesson number two.

My words seemed to calm him, and he nodded in agreement. "Whenever you're ready," I said gently, making it clear I wasn't pushing him.

The boy slipped from the ally where we hid and snuck towards the apple cart. He was a tiny, malnourished little thing- you'd barely notice him if you weren't looking for him. I waited a few seconds as he padded toward the cart, gave him a sweet smile when he looked to me for reassurance, then slipped out of the shadows to follow him.

Never tell your enemies or your prey the entire plan. Life lesson number three.

He was at the cart now. The owner was distracted, aiding an older woman in choosing the ripest apples of the bunch. It would have been so easy to let the boy take two apples and keep one for himself.

But why share when I could have it all?

The boy reached up, plucked two apples from the top of the pile, and I took it as my cue to move. At the opposite end of the cart, I plucked two apples myself—from the bottom. The pyramids tottered briefly, and I took this as my opportunity to hide, selecting an ally near to the cart, but not the same one I had hidden in before. With a series of hollow thuds that reminded me of sleet falling on the tin roof of my home, the apples hit the pavement, drawing the attention of the cart owner.

"What's this?" he shouted, rounding the side of the cart and grabbing the boy by the collar of his grungy shirt. "Show me your hands, boy! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!"

I watched as the boy dropped the apples to the ground. "Please sir, she told me to do it! Over in the ally!" He pointed to where I was before. Still carrying the boy, the cart owner marched over, huffing and puffing in the early morning heat.

"There's no one here, kid. What the hell were you thinking?" The cart owner raised a hand, attracting the attention of the Peacekeepers in the square.

"Is there a problem sir?"

"This thief stole from my stand and destroyed half of my produce," he growled, pushing the boy into the Peacekeeper's clutches. I took this opportunity to stroll out of the other alley, the apples hidden deep at the bottom of my messenger bag, in the secret pouch I'd sewn in myself. Even if I did get stopped, no one would ever find what I'd hidden.

"Good morning, Mr. Acres!" I shouted, waving politely to the cart owner.

The owner of the apple cart smiled, giving me a wave in return.

"THAT'S HER! THAT'S THE GIRL!" The boy shouted, trying to pull from the iron grip of the burly Peacekeepers.

As I walked from the square, heading home so I could dress for the Reapings, I heard Mr. Acres snort. "Don't be stupid boy. Skylar Bornly is a good girl. Known her since she was born!"

Life lesson number four. I win. Always.

OOO

**Otto Acadia**

"You can't just sit in here forever, you know. There's life outside the garage, Otto," my sister, Data, scolded me, sounding remarkably like my mother. She sat on the workbench opposite mine, cuddling with her boyfriend (and my best friend), Chord.

I love Data and Chord, but the last thing I wanted to deal with was their lovey-dovey-cutsey-vomit-inducing romance. Because if we were talking romantic lives, my very limited one had just hit its ultimate low. For three weeks I, Otto Acadia, social outcast and general misfit, had Giga Marin, the prettiest and most popular girl in our school.

And she dumped me.

"It's not me- it's you," she told me yesterday, her gorgeous face completely devoid of emotion. Apparently tall, dark, and handsome did not live up to her expectations when you threw awkward and conversationally-challenged into the mix. And to add insult to injury, she did it the day before the Reapings. Just what I needed if I got reaped today.

Rummaging through my workbench, which could currently be described as organized chaos, I moved a pile of half used sandpaper to reveal the screwdriver I was seeking. I reached to grab it, but stopped, trying to remember if anyone had used the bench since I last worked. I couldn't remember. Deciding to play it safe, I grabbed an antiseptic cloth and wiped the handle down before touching it.

"I'm allowed to mope. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since she dumped me," I replied, tinkering with the switchboard in front of me. I was trying to repair Chord's record player, with little success so far. "I should have known she'd never be interested in a guy like me."

"Giga's a skank, dude. She used you, and you didn't deserve that. But there are plenty of other girls out there who wanna be with you," Chord chimed in, ever the supportive best friend. He was a good guy, but a bit oblivious to the way the world worked. My family was wealthy, but his made ours look like we belonged in District 12. His parents were representatives of Capitol, and he had career prospects far outside our District- a bright future for him, and for Data, if they stayed together.

"Yeah, because we all know the women just line up in _droves_ for socially awkward germophobes," I muttered in frustration, dropping the board onto the wood. One of the data chips cracked, flying into the air and bouncing across the floor. I couldn't see where it landed.

"I was shy, and look where I ended up!" Teeva, the elder of my two sisters said enthusiastically as she entered the garage. She married the mayor's son two years ago, and lived in a mansion in the center of town. I should have known Data would call her- they always liked to double team me when I get mopey.

"Yeah, but you're also hot," Chord chimed in, earning him a slap upside the head from Data. "What? You're hotter!"

"You grew into your looks, Otto. You don't give yourself enough credit. And one day someone will appreciate your quirks as well. You just have to wait for the right girl," Teeva said definitively, and I knew there was no arguing with her. "Now if you guys come inside, mom sent me and Akrin here with sweets for you guys before the Reapings. Chocolate covered strawberries and raisins!"

Data immediately popped up at the words chocolate. She was the troublemaker of the three of us, and a total chocoholic, resulting in a tendency to nick sweets from our mother's shop. I had the opposite problem- when dad took me to work with him at the factory he managed, I always left with pockets filled with scrap metal. Chord followed her into the house. "You coming, bro?" he asked from the doorway.

"In a sec," I said. "Just want to finish soldering this switch back on."

Chord shut the door, and I reveled in the peace and quiet of my garage, knowing my toolbox and workbench would never grab my heart out of my chest and stomp it into the ground. It brought little comfort.

OOO

**Skylar**

I took one last bite of the second apple, tossing the browning core into a garbage pail. According to the clock in the town square, there was less than an hour until the Reaping began. You could tell, too. On any given afternoon, the town square was normally filled with factory workers rushing to lunch or taking a stroll to ease their mind from a busy day wiring explosives. Today, though, parents were rushing home from work to spend time with their children. Who knew- any one of them could be reaped today.

Not my dad, though. We weren't the emotional type. If I got reaped? Well that was that. He knew I could more than hold my own- not with weaponry, but with my mind.

A red car sped by me, shiny and new. I caught a glimpse of hot pink hair with green highlights through the window. The escort had arrived. She was followed by a van of photographers and videographers, ready to set up and begin the human lottery.

_Get it together, Sky, _my inner voice chided. I still needed something to wear. Dad's job kept our heads above water, but we weren't rich. New dresses weren't always an option. So I was on my own for this one- and I knew the perfect target.

"Hi Mrs. Crowne!" I said as I entered the tailor's shop at the corner. "Hi Bierly!" Bierly was a girl in my class at school. I couldn't stand her, honestly, but I knew one day the connection would be of use. That day was today.

"Hi Skylar! Ready for the Reaping?" Mrs. Crowne asked, her face mournful. Bierly was her only daughter, and she had taken the tessarae for every member of her family- including six younger brothers, all under twelve. Most people would feel bad. I felt comforted. Made my chances of getting picked slimmer. And I didn't feel sorry for it a bit.

"Not really…" I said, widening my eyes and forcing tears out. "I have nothing to wear… Dad… well the money isn't really there this year. You know? So I guess I'll just go in this…" I pointed at the tattered and stained pants and shirt I wore, a disguise I'd chosen to manipulate the poor boy.

Mrs. Crowne shook her head, lips pursed. "That won't do at _all _my dear. What if the cameras catch you in the crowd? The Capitol… I shudder to think what they'd do to you. No, I'll lend you a dress from the store. You can return it after."

"Oh _thank you!_" I replied graciously, accepting the simple yet becoming blue dress from Mrs. Crowne. "I'll make sure I wash it right after the Reaping, and then I'll bring it back to you."

Nope. Not a chance.

"Not a problem. Why don't you get changed and you can walk with Bierly and I to the park?"

I did as I was asked, acting the part of the good girl the whole time.

OOO

**Otto**

The gates of the Emerich Hawthorne Memorial Park, on a normal day, would be wide open. The green fields would be filled with jocks playing any number of sports, and children on rusted swings and sandboxes. On Reaping day, however, the gates remained closed until show time. The stage would be set up, speakers and television cameras everywhere. I could already see the mayor pacing back and forth across the stage with my brother-in-law. His two younger sisters were still eligible.

We waited for the signal chimes to ring, and the gates to open. Everything was highly organized in District 3- the girls would file in first, then the boys, then the spectators.

"You guys will be fine," Chord said, though I could tell he was trying to reassure himself, in addition to Data and myself. Because he was originally from the Capitol, he was exempt from the Reaping. "You're only in there a couple of times, thee are kids with dozens of tessarae slips. You'll be fine."

"Babe, you're freaking out worse than either of us," Data said softly, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. I wasn't so sure that was true. My stomach was churning. I'm sure Data was even worse, as this was her last year eligible. So what if our names were only in there a few times? It only took one slip of paper to become a tribute.

Above our heads, a series of chimes sounded. The signal that the gates were going to open. I glanced at Data, and saw my nerves reflected in her eyes. Chord shook my hand, and I tried not to flinch at the touch. "No worries, bud. No worries," he whispered, giving me a quick pat on the back. He turned to kiss Data goodbye, and I wandered to join my group, making sure to stand far away from the others so as not to touch them.

As the last of the spectators filed in and took their seats in the old metal bleaches, the mayor took center stage. Concern for her own children's well being was clear as she stuttered through the history of Panem and the revolutions. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her legs fidgety. Once she finished, she acknowledged the applause received with a curt nod and collapsed, rather than sat, back in he chair next to Chord's dad.

"OKAY KIDS! It's time for the fun to begin!" someone shouted with malevolent glee. Our escort, Kyrie Zanderhook ran onto the stage, looking like someone smashed a watermelon over her head and didn't bother to clean it off. Her skin was tinted gold and blue, almost in a spiral pattern, and some device was pushing her sapphire eyes wide open, almost to the point of falling out of her head. She was a conglomerate of color that wrecked havoc upon the eyes, but probably brought men running to her side in the Capitol. And as she smiled, I could see her teeth were covered in diamonds.

Fun? Only someone from the capitol could think we were about to have fun.

"I hope we have some entertaining choices this year, don't you all?" Kyrie asked the crowd. There was a meager applaud, halfhearted. District 3 was stuck smack dab in the middle of the career tributes of one, two, and four. Entertaining the Capitol was not foremost on our minds.

"Who did we start with last year Don?" Kyrie shouted at the director. "The girls? Alright! Boys first this year!" She stuck her hand into the globe, her talon-like nails snapping up a thin slip of paper.

"Our lucky boy this year is… OTTO ACADIA!"

The words had barely registered before I threw up on the guy in front of me.

**OOO**

**Skylar**

"No!" I heard shouted from somewhere behind me. Bierly and I turned around. There was rustling and movement among the eighteen year old girls, but it stopped once the Peacekeepers moved forward. Craning my neck, I searched for the unlucky victim that was heading to the arena, and saw a small circle clear among the seventeen year old boys. A boy was on the ground, trying to stand up, but was still shaky. He wiped his sleeve across his face, his face turning beat red.

Otto took a second, collected himself, and stalked up to the stage. Was it aggression or just a response to the terror he felt? I couldn't tell. But in the crowds I could hear women crying, and I assumed it was his family.

He stomped up the stairs, arms crossed across his chest looking defensive. Not ready to fight, but ready to react. He was tall and awkward, but had a unique handsomeness to him. It was a shame he didn't stand a chance in the arena.

Kyrie threw an arm around his shoulder, ruffling his hair, and Otto flinched. "You ready for the most exciting event of your life Otto?" she screeched maniacally, practically jumping up and down in her giddiness.

She shoved the mic under his mouth, and I could just barely hear him mutter, "You mean the _last_ event of my life?" I snickered.

At least he had a sense of humor.

Kyrie raised an eyebrow and took over the mic. "Allllllllright everybody! Let's give it up for Otto! Now on to the girls!"

I watched the globe spin in front of me. Bierly grabbed my hand, and I heard her whisper, "Skylar, I'm scared."

I pulled my hand away. "You probably should be," I hissed back, annoyed. She hiccupped, and started crying. I was only stating the truth- she had almost triple the number of slips that I had.

"The lovely young lady representing District 3 this year is—" she paused dramatically, and Bierly started sobbing. "SKYLAR BORNLY."

Who?

It was a total out of body experience. How could I be a tribute? I was only fourteen. Bierly and her dozens of slips missed being reaped, and I was chosen. I wanted to scream. To throw a temper tantrum, demand they pick again until I got my way. I _always_ got my way.

But that wasn't the way to get sponsors. And if I was going to survive, as dad said, my strength was not physical, it was mental. The ability to manipulate. And that started right now. Biting my lip until I could feel it bleed, I forced myself to cry. And the tears led to bawling. I gave Bierly- detested, annoying Bierly- a long, bittersweet hug, acting as if she were my best friend in the world. Slowly pulling myself away, I made my way to the stage, approaching the podium with a look of innocence destroyed on my face. The tears were silent now.

"Don't cry sweetie, you're gonna be famous!" Kyrie chided. I saw my Dad in the crowd, giving me a thumbs up of approval. Suppressing the urge to smirk was nearly painful.

"I… I… know!" I sobbed.

"Alright! This year's tributes! Shake hands and we can proceed with the Hunger Games!" Kyrie announced. I hesitantly stuck out my hand towards Otto. I saw him cringe in disgust, his fingertips just barely glancing over my hand in the weakest handshake I'd ever felt. I looked up at him sadly, hoping he would sense that I was a young girl lost in the system. And he fell for it, taking a deep breathe for courage and gripping my hand tighter in comfort.

One sucker down. Twenty-two more to go.

OOO

**Otto**

Hugging my mother and father one last time, I watched as my family was escorted from the Justice Building. Everyone had always said the tributes were treated like kings and queens, but they were wrong. The cramped little spaces we were given or our goodbyes felt like little more than prison cells. Teeva was distraught, Data barely holding herself together, and mom was in hysterics. Dad? Dad was typical, analytical dad. He accepted it like I did: the likelihood of me coming home was slim. Antisocial, germophobic, awkward Otto Acadia: future bloodbath victim. They might as well tattoo it on my forehead and let me skip the training crap.

As I watched my family slip away down the hallway, I threw myself across the metal chair that I'd previously wiped down with soap and paper towels from the sink in the room. It was the best I could do, given the circumstances.

"You expecting anyone else, kid?" the Peacekeeper at the door asked me. I glanced at the clock on the wall- it was nearing five, when we'd be cut off from the world as we knew it. I shrugged my shoulders in response, unsure if Chord would come, and preparing myself to be disappointed if he did.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps running down the hallway. "Is there… is there… time?" I heard someone panting outside the door. I recognized my best friend's voice.

"Go on ahead kid," the guard said. "You got a couple minutes."

I stood from the chair as Chord entered, red faced and winded. "I was afraid I'd miss you dude. I went to see my dad. I was hoping… with our connections. Maybe there was immunity… I tried, man. But Dad… there was nothing he could do. I'm so sorry."

I felt my heart break a little. I never expected him to go to such lengths for me. Pushing aside my fear of germs, I grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a hug. "Don't bother, man. What's done is done. But thank you."

"Who the hell is gonna back me up when Data gets all bossy?" he asked with a forced smile.

I shrugged my shoulders. "You'll find someone."

"Won't be the same," he said, looking down at the floor and kicking invisible rocks. "I'm gonna marry her, you know. I still have to ask her. But just in case you don't… but you're gonna come back, and you'll be my best man."

"Yeah, I'll be back," I said, unsure of who I was trying to comfort with my lies at this point.

The guard poked his head in. "Wrap it up guys."

"I'll be watching. I asked my dad to call in all his friends in the capitol. Work out some sponsors for you. We've got your back."

"Thanks man."

Chord and I shook hands one last time, and he headed for the door. At the last minute he turned around and tossed something at me. "You need a token dude. And a reminder that you gotta get your ass back here and fix my record player." I opened my hand to see the data chip I'd broken off the switchboard earlier that day.

"You got it, bro."

The door closed behind him, and I was left to face my fate.

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><p><strong>Hey everybody! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a great time writing these tributes! Honestly I've had fun with all of them so far. Thank you to everyone who has left a review or faved. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism- I really do appreciate it! Or just leave a review! The OttoSkylar banner is also now up on my blog! -Jac**


	7. Put Under The Pressure: District 4

**Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine! Chapter title by Linkin Park. **

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><p><strong>Luka Greenval<strong>

"And TIME!" I heard my mom shout, clicking the stopwatch off. Skidding to a stop, I bent down and grabbed my knees in an attempt to regain my breath. Sprinting practice was over.

Speed and agility- in my opinion, they were my two selling points, if I was ever reaped. And that was a situation I most definitely planned on avoiding. District 4, once a great Career district, had fallen along the wayside since the Capitol Revolution. We still had our share of grand fighters- Mahala Stanchion, our current mentor, was one of them- but volunteers from four were few and far between these days.

Still, as my mother so often said, it never hurt to be prepared. As a result, I was more than willing to follow her drill sergeant-like orders to ensure my body was at its peak capacity.

"Better?" I heaved, gratefully taking the aluminum water bottle she handed me.

"Took four seconds off your best time, Luka. I'm impressed."

From mom, that was the highest praise. Still, I didn't thank her, didn't let the compliment go to my head- it just wasn't my way. I just shrugged my shoulders as she collected her gym bag. I loved my mom, and I knew she loved me, but we weren't an emotional family. We were guarded.

Mom didn't trust many people, or open herself up to getting hurt. Adapt or die- it was her motto, and an understandable one at that. At the age of eighteen, she was reaped and won the Hunger Games and got pregnant. By nineteen, my father had abandoned us and she was a single mother living in wealth with the guilt of twenty-three lives on her conscience. To say it changed her… that would be an understatement.

"How do you feel?" she asked, breaking her façade to reveal her worry. Any parent would, especially one who knew first-hand what I could be facing should I be reaped. "I wish I could be your mentor if…"

"Rules are rules," I muttered, tightening the knots on my worn, mud-caked sneakers. Mom had been the District 4 mentor until I turned twelve. Once I was of age, she was asked to step down and Mahala took over. They didn't want to give me an advantage over the other district tribute if my name was picked. It was disappointing, but rules were rules, and there was no use crying over spilled milk.

"Walk home with me, Luka?"

"Getting sentimental, mom?" I responded bluntly. She always did before the Reapings. A grimace glanced across her face, and I felt bad for being insensitive. My people skills were lacking, a side effect of my isolationist tendencies. Normally it didn't bother me, but I hated hurting Mom, especially when she was worried. "Sorry," I muttered. "I'm gonna go lift weights."

"Make sure you leave time to get changed before the Reapings. We'll walk there together." Her voice said there would be no arguing that plan.

Shoving my gym bag over my shoulder, I headed for the weight room. It was relatively empty, though here and there a dedicated future Career was running on a treadmill or bench pressing. Most guys were primping for their moment on camera, gelling their hair and finalizing their outfits.

"Greenval!"

Ezras Leapsage slapped me on the back hard, smiling. I didn't really consider him a friend, though he had mentored me over the last few years. We were both loners and intense in our training, for different reasons. Whereas I wanted to be ready should I ever get chosen, Ez was a Career, driven by a determination to avenge his brother Kyler's death. He was seventeen now, planning on volunteering when he was eighteen so he could get maximum training before entering the arena.

"What d'you want Ez?" I asked.

"I need a spotter. Get your ass over here," he said, nodding towards a dumbbell with five hundred pounds of load on either side. "Can't let my face get crushed before it gets on camera. I want everyone in Panem to know that I'm the man to beat next year."

There was no doubt in my mind that Ezras's words were true. And honestly, I was happy to let him take his spot among the tributes. Whatever it took to keep my head above the water and my heart beating.

OOO

**Aaralyn Leapsage**

"Not too far, Amias!" I shouted to my little brother as he dove into the late morning surf. I stood near the shoreline, dipping my bare feet in the lapping water and digging my toes into the sand. Dark grey on light grey- the water might have been blue, and the sand might have been tan, but I'd never been able to see the colors myself and only knew what I'd been told.

My mother told me it was a gift, but to me it was a curse. Who wants to live in a world of grey?

"Aw come on Ary! Just cause you can't go swimming today doesn't mean I can't have fun!" he shouted back, jumping up as a wave splashed past him. I rolled my eyes. It was Reapings day and Mom curled my hair this morning, which meant I couldn't get wet. My older sister Nerissa was supposed to bring Amias to the beach so I'd resist the temptation to dive in, but her boyfriend had shown up and they both disappeared.

Despite having participated in training exercises my entire life, I hated the Hunger Games- despised them ever since they sentenced my older brother Kyler to his death at the young age of twelve, exactly a decade ago. I had very few memories of him, and Amias didn't remember him at all, as we were four and one respectively when Ky died. But the pictures of him around our house represented both happy memories and bitter reminders of the times in which we lived.

"Fine, but not too much fun!" I responded with a smile. After all, if I got reaped today, I wanted him to have happy memories of me.

_Think positive,_ I reprimanded myself, although it was entirely futile. I was going to worry either way. _You're from a career district… kind of. There might be volunteers this year; Ez is always talking about the girls training at the arena. Just get through this, and you'll see Sam. _

Samael Telmaris. My best friend. In all honesty, the only friend I had, and that was only if you defined friendship as two people that reunited four times a year, for a single day. His father was a merchant in District 7, delivering paper across Panem, and Sam was his apprentice. They had only one rule when travelling- that he was never to leave his father's side- not only because he was supposed to be learning the trade, but because merchants were kept under special watch by the peace keepers because they could facilitate inter-district communication and incite rebellion.

But Sam had always had a mind of his own, and when he was eight, he ditched his father during a sale and wandered down to the beach where my older brother Ezras and I were swimming. He marched to me through the sand and asked if I'd teach him to swim. Unable to believe anyone couldn't swim (a product of my District 4 upbringing), I did the only logical thing: shoved him in the water. Thinking back, it was lucky Ezras was there to save Sam, because I couldn't have saved him myself. But by the time his father found him, we had become fast friends and promised to visit each other every time he was in town.

There was no communication between visits- it just wasn't allowed- but four times a year, as the seasons changed, Sam Telmaris would return to District 4 and to my life. And every year I knew that, just after the Reapings, I should expect my best friend to reappear at my front door.

Glancing down at my watch, I jumped in surprise at the time. "Amias! Time to come in! The Reapingss are starting soon!"

He swam to shore quickly, muttering curses under his breath. "Language, language," I teased, though I silently agreed with him. I hated what the Capitol forced us to endure, but what choice did any of us have? There was nothing we could do, and as a result, any of us could be ripped from our family and friends.

_Positive thoughts, Ary_. _Sam is coming,_ my inner voice reminded.

Yes, he was coming. Now all I had to do was pray my slip of paper stayed far from the escort's hand.

OOO

**Luka **

"And whatever you do, don't dare trust anybody. Ally with the careers for the first few days, then get out. Don't wait until the pack starts fraying. Be the one to cause the frays. Try and take some out with you as you go. Leave behind the weakest. Do you understand?" my mother instructed as we entered the park. Small packs of teenagers were beginning to gather before the stage, still mixed across age groups and sexes. Soon we would divide, ready to stand at attention for the Capitol's entertainment.

"Are you paying attention to me Luka?" my mother asked, sounding weary.

"Yes'm," I muttered, even though I hadn't been listening. Mom gave me this speech every year as we walked to the Reapingss. And it never changed, just useful tidbits that kept her from death in the arena. She never told me how she learned these things, as she despised speaking of her time as a tribute and absolutely forbid me from watching tapes of her games.

"Good," she replied sharply. There were worry lines creased across her forehead, but her voice remained tough and emotionless. "I'll see you after the Reapings." I watched her walk into the crowds, out of my line of vision. Like every year, a sinking feeling in my stomach reminded me that this could be our last conversation.

"So then I told Parma that pink skin _never_ works out," a new voice emerged over the speakers, a distinct Capitol accent paired with a high pitched squeal making it absolutely painful to listen to. _Oh dear God, tell me this is __**not **__the escort. _I pitied whatever tributes had to deal with her, her voice grating and clearly too dense to realize her microphone was on. "And what does she do? Ignores me! _That's _why they stuck her in D10. She screwed herself out of a good district, I tell ya. Not that D4 is much better, considering the shoddy tributes they've sent out the last few years."

That certainly got the throngs going. From among the larger groups of people, a number of boos were emitted. It was a risky move, probably with an extreme punishment, but none of the peacekeepers moved to stop them. The puce and jade-skinned escort glanced around the crowd in shock, then down to her mic box, which she promptly turned off.

"We got a real winner this year, don't we?" I hadn't noticed Ezras coming up behind me. He was followed by his younger sister, Aaralyn, the look on her face completely unreadable, but decidedly cold. Although I knew it was directed at the day's events and not at me, I couldn't help but shiver.

If you ever wanted a study in dichotomies, Ez and his younger sister were the perfect subjects. Their brother Kyler's death had hit them both hard, and in a way, it consumed their entire lives. They both had extreme, yet entirely opposite, reactions. Ary got cold, shut herself off to the world except for a few select people, whereas Ez got tough and decided the best way to seek revenge was through the games themselves. I could tell Ary hated her brother's way of dealing, but who was I to judge?

Before I had a chance to respond, a trumpeter took to the stage, dressed in garish yellow velvet. He blasted the opening notes of the Panem national anthem, signaling the start of the festivities.

The Reapingss were about to begin.

OOO

**Aaralyn**

As the mayor related the history of Panem, I stood at the edges of the fourteen year old girls, not feeling particularly attached to anyone. Years in school, and for some, years in training had never brought us any closer. Here and there, playmates from before Ky's death waited nervously with wrung hands or chattered with excitement as whether there might be a volunteer this year. We exchanged the briefest of glances, some even a wave, but no conversation. The nerves amongst the members of the crowd were palpable.

I just wanted this trial to be over. Another year down, another year closer to the rest of my life and living in… well, clearly not peace, but in the comfortable knowledge that my government wouldn't get the pleasure of watching me die for their televised amusement.

"Gooood evening everybody!"

Ez was right. This woman was an idiot. Everyone knew the Reapings started at ten am sharp. It was most definitely time to start pitying the D4 tributes. They didn't stand a chance with—

"My name is Barstow Plenary, and I am _tha-rilled _to be working with all of you _faaaaaaaabulous_ people this year!" As she spoke, I wondered what wild colors this woman was covered in. Her skin was clearly two-toned, that much I could discern from the dark and light shades of grey that formed a checkerboard across her skin. Her hair was sculpted into an elaborate pompadour, her heels so high and thin it seemed the back of her feet levitated above the stage. "Aw look, here comes the camera. C'mon everybody! Time to smile and wave to our _uh-mazing _leaders!"

I didn't want to, everything in my heart told me to rebel and stand stony faced. But some thing in D4 never changed, like the fact that we still had our Career roots. My companions, despite having no intentions to volunteer, still held a certain degree of excitement for the Hunger Games, a strongly rooted tradition that was never completely overcome. I would stand out among my cheering companions, drawing unwanted attention.

_Do it for Sam, _the voice in my head screamed. _You know he's watching. If you can't smile for yourself, smile for Sam._

I put on my goofiest grin, smiling so wide my forehead wrinkled and my eyes were squinted. I waved wildly, making an utter ass of myself. Silent rebellion. I knew my best friend would see the humor in it.

"Alright everybody! Let's get to the fun part! Time to choose our lucky kids!"

Polite applause emerged from the crowd, not as loud as in the true career districts, but still filled with energy. "Now as common courtesy insists…"

The words had barely left Barstow's mouth when I snorted. Common courtesy? Ah yes, let's courteously send a kid to battle to the death. It's _only_ proper. I hoped Sam was laughing at that one as well. I glanced around, seeing small smirks on the faces of the girls around me, but I luckily did not catch the attention of the peace keepers.

"…the young lady will be chosen first. Ready?" She stuck her hand into the globe, flailing it around in the papers to mix them up further. It was really unnecessary, seeing as how the globe was automated to spin on its own. But anything for a good show, right?

"Aaralyn Leapsage! Come on down! Congratulations hunny, you're gonna be a s_tar!_"

I stood there, incapable of acknowledging that my name had been said. How were Mom and Dad going to deal with this? Their marriage barely survived losing Ky. Ez and Nerissa, who's watched as Ky was sent to his death? Amias, who already had one sibling he couldn't remember?

Why did my family have to watch another child die?

And Sam. We didn't even get to say goodbye. Would I have to say it on-screen, in front of all of Panem?

My heart was in my throat. "NO! Take me! I volunteer!" I heard someone shout from the boy's section. Ezras. He, who was willing to give his life as a career, was trying to pull off the impossible.

Barstow smiled. "Now boys, you'll have your chance! C'mon up Aaralyn! All of four wants to meet you!"

Closing myself off to the world around me, my eyes entirely dead, I pushed through the crowds toward the stage. They wanted a show? Well, they sure as hell wasn't getting one from me.

OOO

**Luka**

Ezras was stronger than he looked.

The minute he heard his sister's name, he was pushing out of the seventeen year olds into my section on his way to the stage. Instinctively, I grabbed him, gripping him tight around the wrist.

"NO! Take me!" he shouted. "I volunteer!" The escort's response for patience was not what he wanted to hear, and Ez fought even harder.

"You need to calm down," I hissed, seeing the Peacekeepers moving towards us.

He shook his head, incapable of masking his emotions. His face was twisted in pain and anguish, as he looked around the girls, waiting for a volunteer that never came. My heart was breaking for him. Despite my insistence for years that I didn't need friends, Ez _was _the closest thing I had to one. "She didn't sign up for this. I was willing… I trained… Ary doesn't deserve this…" he mumbled, trying to pull himself together.

"You need to be strong for her, man. Look at her up there. She's keeping a cool head. We both know that she's been training, even if she didn't plan on volunteering. Don't make her lose her composure."

I was impressed with Aaralyn's demeanor, but I had always thought she and I were more alike than Ezras and myself. Loners, we kept to ourselves and kept our emotions hidden, training just in case we found ourselves facing the worst possible fate. She stood on the stage, arms crossed, one hundred percent tough. Barstow was trying to get something, anything out of her, but Ary was unrelenting.

"I'm volunteering this year," Ezras said. "I have to protect her."

Trying to be the voice of reason, I forced Ez to look at me. He needed someone to give it to him straight. "Do you think Ary would want that? Do your parents need to lose a third child? Let's face it, Ary's strong, but the odds are 1 in 24. How much better are 1 in 12 odds that _one _of you will come back? Your family needs you here, Ez. Ary has all the skills she needs to defend herself."

I was almost certain it was the most words I'd ever spoken to Ezras at once. I wasn't one for giving speeches, but it worked. He calmed down slightly, enough to make the peace keepers lose interest.

"Where is Luka Greenval?" I heard over the speakers. Our heads shot up, confused as to why my name was being called. "Luka! What are ya waiting for, doll? You're the lucky boy representing district four!"

I'd been reaped and I hadn't even noticed.

Shaking my head, I glared at the guys around me as they cleared a path to the stage. "I'll volunteer for you, I've been training," Ezras offered again, as if I didn't know he spent his days at the training center. "Let me protect my sister."

"I trained too," I countered. Ezras wasn't seeing the logistics, wasn't thinking clearly. "Your family needs you here. Ary needs you here."

"But—"

"I'll look out for her," I said quickly, the words spilling out of my mouth before I truly thought them through. Slapping him on the back once, I approached the stage, trying to emulate Aaralyn's stoic look. As I took my place beside her, I saw my mother in the crowd looking horrified.

_Trust no one_, her words came back to me, ringing in my ears. Yet I'd just promised to help protect the girl standing beside me. The battle plans were out the window.

But Mom always did say adapt or die. And that's what I was doing.

OOO

**Aaralyn **

_Dear Sam,_

_ So let's work under the assumption that this letter isn't coming as a surprise. I mean, we all have to watching the Reapingss, so you know I won't be here when you arrive next week. Ez promised to pass this letter on to you. I'd give it to you myself, but clearly _that _isn't going to happen anytime soon. _

_ I feel like I should be scared, or nervous, or seeing my life flash before my eyes. But I just feel emotionless. Like Aaralyn Leapsage is a character in one of the vids they show on TV, and I'm watching her throw her life away. I want to shout out, tell her to run, but the only thing I can do is sit here, riveted to the screen. It sounds stupid when I read this back. I mean, really, what could I do at this point to save myself?_

_ Mom and Dad came to visit me first. They gave my Kyler's token. You remember, the silver ring with the trident that Mom wears as a necklace? She cried as she handed it to me, completely lost it. She and Dad barely made it through Ky's death. I'm terrified to think what will happen when I'm gone. Amias and Nerissa came together. We tried to keep it light for Am, but you know how it is. _

_ Ez is here now. I know you'd be waiting to visit me next if you were here. But you're not, and now I have to say goodbye to you in a stupid letter. _

_ And yes, I do think it is goodbye. I'm not going to go down without a fight. You know that's not my style. But I saw the Reapingss in one and two, and those Careers… they're terrifying, aren't they? Almost inhuman, in a way. I can run with the pack for a while, but how much of a chance do I honestly have? Please don't judge me when I'm out there. I know I don't have to tell you that, but there's something about the thought of killing… I don't want you to think less of me._

_ That's the worst thing that could happen. And that's coming from a dead girl walking. _

_ You're my best friend in the world, Sam. I just… I needed to know that you knew that before they send me away. It's ok if you don't want to watch me die. I won't judge you if you close your eyes or leave the room. I promise. Just remember me the way we were on the beaches of four. _

_ Ez is supposed to give you the picture we took last summer. Give him a good kick if he doesn't._

_ Think of me when I'm gone. I know I'll be thinking of you in the arena. _

_ Love you,_

_ Aaralyn Leapsage_

I handed the letter to Ezras, before pulling my distraught brother into a hug. He was doing a terrible job of hiding his tears, but he had always been the emotional one of the two of us. "You sure you told Sam everything you wanted to say?" he asked as he pulled away.

"I'm sure."

No I wasn't.

But considering I'd be dead within the weak, there were some things that were better left unsaid.

Some feelings better left in my heart.

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><p><strong>Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay in getting this up. Work is… well, as crazy as you would expect working in a lab to be. Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback so far, and for the constructive criticism. It is SO greatly appreciated!<strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed Ary and Luka. They were definitely tough to write, so I hope I captured them alright. I love them though, and they're in for a very tangled alliance once they reach the games! I might edit this chapter for grammar again, cause it's 1 am, and I have to be back in lab at 6. Oye. Their banner should be up on my website during the day tomorrow. **

**Please leave feedback and let me know what you think! I love to hear your thoughts! **


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